


An Even Trade

by imaginary_iby



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_iby/pseuds/imaginary_iby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After three bullets to the belly, Danny is sick and tired of physical therapy.  Fortunately, shirtless Steve helps to make things better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Even Trade

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this lovely, (slightly nsfw) [gif-set](http://deedo2313.tumblr.com/post/60851059727), which was sent to me by Lisa. :D An excellent fic-prompt!

Danny grunted as he clenched his stomach muscles, bracing his back and heaving upwards. “Where did my life go so wrong?” he growled, reaching the summit of his sit-up. He paused, glowered directly into Steve’s eyes, and then dropped back to the floor.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

“It’s good for you,” Steve said primly. He had a determined look on his face, and from his perch in front of Danny’s spread feet, he adjusted his grip on Danny’s ankles.

“What did we say about you being all snotty-SEAL during PT, eh?” Danny clenched his stomach muscles again, mentally counting reps. Was that 94, or 95? Better to round up, for the sake of neatness.

“That was not snotty SE… No, I can’t even say those words.” Steve released his grip on Danny’s left ankle, giving it a comforting pat. “That was good old fashioned civilian encouragement.” Any brownie points he may have earned evaporated as he carried on with, “And that was 94. You have this squirrelly expression whenever you think you’ve gotten away with cheating.”

Damned Steve, sticking his nose into Danny’s physical therapy. Damned Steve, with his sweetness and his muscles and his Be All You Can Be attitude. Damned Steve, with his earnest _I know yous_ \- Danny felt like an open book. At least it was a two-way street, because hell if he couldn’t picture Steve grumbling, “The Army, Danny, that’s the Army.”

Pleased with having cheesed Steve off, even if it was only a fantasy, Danny braced his back and pushed up once more.

“95,” Steve counted off, giving a nod.

“Seriously though,” Danny puffed out, settling back against the floor. “Where did my life go so wrong?”

Again, Steve released his grip on Danny’s ankle, this time sliding his hand up to Danny’s belly. The once luxurious knit of hair was shorn in places, broken up by three pink and shiny scars. “I’d say right around the third bullet to the belly.”

Danny quirked an eyebrow, pillowing his head in the cradle of his hands. It felt good to rest, and if he played his cards right he just might be able to get out of the last few sit-ups. “But not the first two?” 

“Nah,” Steve said, smoothing his thumb over the ugliest scar. Lingering evidence of the bullet that had done the most damage. “The first two were a piece of cake.”

 _Hardly_ , Danny thought. Two rounds of surgery, endless nights in hospital, months of pain and physical therapy. Life had been broken, the simplest things suddenly mired in exhaustion; showers a nightmare, sex a distant memory, chasing after an eleven year old impossible. 

But he’d survived. He’d survived, and here he was, doing sit-ups, a shirtless Steve sat by his feet. Always there, always helping, even when Danny had raged at him to fuck off, leave him alone, the hurt was too much and Steve was too much and Danny was done with it all.

With a sudden burst of affection, Danny surged up. Steve had half a second to look pleased, before Danny inelegantly mashed his lips to Steve’s goofy face. He cupped his hands to the back of Steve’s head, gathering him into the sit-up’s momentum, and together they toppled back down towards the floor. 

They landed with a grunt, lips still mashed together, and Danny was grateful that Steve had the presence of mind to catch his own weight as they fell. Even though the wounds had healed months back, Danny still felt strangely protective of his scarred skin.

“Don’t think that…” Steve broke off for a kiss, soft and wet and warm. “Don’t think that I’ve forgotten you still owe me four sit-ups.” As though satisfied that he’d made his case, he settled himself comfortably between Danny’s thighs, leaning in to nuzzle Danny’s cheek.

“Yes, Drill Sergeant,” Danny grumbled, even as he hooked his arms around Steve’s neck, keeping him nice and close.

Right on cue, Steve squirmed unhappily. “Navy, Danny.”

“Recruit Division Commander just doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know?” Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and Danny didn’t know whether to be amused or indignant. “Hey, I know things, maybe I learned things, picked up a book, brushed up on my sailor-speak.”

He chose not to mention the hours he’d spent investigating the recall process, gnawing through toothpicks as Steve swam, a dot on the horizon. It was much more fun to focus on the here and now. 

Steve felt fantastic above him, hot and hard, and Danny’s interest in sit-ups went from non-existent to active-loathing. “You know,” he sing-songed, as though he couldn’t possibly have anything naughty up his sleeve. “There are lots of other ways for me to get back in shape.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched, brain momentarily short-circuiting at the prospect of not completing PT, before weighing it up against the promise of sex. It was adorable to watch, because Danny knew from experience just how the next twenty minutes was going to unfold. 

“That’s true,” Steve said, smile bright and goofy, already shifting to press his cock against Danny’s hip. “Alright, fine, sex will count for your remaining four sit-ups.”

“Four?!” Danny squawked. “Are you seriously telling me that I’m only worth four sit-ups in bed?” Thoroughly insulted, he hooked his leg around Steve’s, flipping them roughly and grinning when Steve blinked, completely stunned to find himself so suddenly pounced upon. 

Danny could accept a challenge. And _then_ some. 

“Fine,” he said, voice thick and deep. “I’ll do all the work. But you?” He bit Steve’s shoulder, a promise of things to come. “You’re not even going to be able to walk straight, by the time I'm done with you.”


End file.
